Welcome to the Watcher's Council
by pixysticks666
Summary: Two years after Sunnydale became a giant pit Buffy, Dawn, and all the Scoobies are in England running the new Watcher's Council. Spike's about but Buffy acts like she doesn't know. She is just about cookies but doesn't want anyone but Spike. Will there be
1. Post Sunnydale

Rating 

PG – 13, might change

Pairing 

Buffy and Spike

Disclaimer

Only the idea for the story is mine.

Prologue

More than two years had passed since Sunnydale had become just another hole in the ground. A magnificent, town sized hole in the ground but the Grand Canyon was still grander. You could not ride a donkey to the floor or the Sunnydale crater. Buffy along with her loyal group of friends had left the sight for greener pastures almost immediately.

Buffy and Dawn found a home in Rome with Andrew, the last surviving member of the nerd trio. Giles along with Willow and the remaining potentials, minus Kennedy who had stayed in the states (Willow wasn't terribly heart broken), had traveled to England to sort out what remained of the Watcher's council. It wasn't much. Faith joined Wood in a whirlwind tour of Asia, in hopes of discovering local girls with "unusual powers". And lastly, Xander, he had gone to New York City in hopes of finding himself after losing Anya so permanently.

This didn't last though. Once a Scooby always a Scooby and they just couldn't bear to be apart for such long stretches of time. When one has survived so many catastrophic, world-ending experiences, one knows how short life can be. It wasn't long before Giles, under the urging of Buffy and Willow, had extended an invite to each of them to venture to England and assist him. And thus we enter the newest era of the Watcher's council; in a time with many slayers and very few watchers, in a time of chaos and pain, and in a time that the Scooby's would grow and change more than they thought possible after their first seven years together.

No one had objected to coming to England, to joining up as a team once again. Willow, Buffy, and Xander could finally rekindle their deep friendship, Dawn found the sister and the mother in Buffy that she had so yearned for in the past, and Faith found acceptance. Andrew was just pleased to be invited. It was a harrowing time; rebuilding the council. Heads butted and people argued; Dawn thought all of the new living quarters should be painted cream while Giles liked the hunter green.

It had taken them over a year but the council stood as a force to be reckoned with once again. Their library was grand and their vaults still filled with gold and jewels, they had even found some surviving demon artifacts. Dawn had won the vote on wall color and so each Scooby soon found themselves in their very own cream study with adjoining bed and bath. There were still new Watcher's codes to be written and slayers to be found, there was never a dull moment. Buffy patrolled, Dawn tagged along, and Faith trained with the new girls.

By this time the Watcher's council was more like the Federal Bureau of Investigation, with a pretty healthy focus on the so-called "x-files". When the Wolfram and Hart offices in Los Angeles were destroyed the entire corporation seemed to crumble. Their global satellite offices began to slowly disappear off the radar and soon most were abandoned buildings. They were facing some rather stiff competition though, so no one could blame them for folding. The council had pushed its way into everybody's business, now wielding power in the demon and human world alike.

Angel and Illyria, the only known survivors of the "L.A. Apocalypse," as Dawn had called it in her report, arrived in England that second year. They brought with them a weighty secret, which they had sworn to never divulge. Spike was alive, he however, wanted to stay out of the Slayer's business and let her be who ever it was that she was going to be. So they never whispered a word; that matter was closed, old business by now.

Angel was not the only once-Scooby to return, Xander, now an impressive Demonologist had been visiting Mexico and returned with a werewolf in tow. In the years since he had last seen his friends Oz had become something of a recluse and a shut-in. The werewolf was a local legend; it had not taken Xander long to track him down and offer a standing invitation to join the Watchers. Oz was now living peacefully within the walls of the Watcher's council, happy to be reunited with lost friends. He had Willow again, and while she continued to remind him that she liked girls now, he was content with just being around her. But, then again, they had history, what else would you expect?

Dawn had finally graduated high school, which had been harder than expected due to the constant moving around. In the end she had opted to finish out her studies with home schooling. Between Willow and Giles, who needed high school teachers? Now all of her time was invested in her training, Dawn was a W.I.T. or Watcher in Training. Giles had come up with the W.I.T. euphemism and he thought it was terribly clever, barely containing a grin whenever the term was mentioned in conversation. Buffy was ready to smack the grin off his face by now but that was Giles for you; clever, clever, Watcher man.

Dawn was officially assigned to Giles, who would be her mentor through the W.I.T. process; something Giles felt would take at least a couple years. Really she only agreed because he was still technically Buffy's watcher and that meant that she could hang around her sister more often, and get credit for it. Dawn had an interesting style of "watching"; it had something to do with kicking demons in the groin and yelling, "fuck" frequently. When he ventured out with the two girls, or women actually, on a mission he spent more time cleaning his glasses than he did advising Dawn.

After only a matter a months Giles had decided that Dawn would benefit more from independent study. She hand delivers a typed, ten-page report to him every two weeks detailing her progress and Giles smiles and slips it into a desk drawer. Never to be seen again. Dawn will be a full Watcher this fall, quite ahead of schedule.

Buffy was told by Willow, the second in command as far as Watchers go, that as soon as she was ready to put down her stake there would be a Watcher post ready and waiting for her. For the time being she preferred to be the slayer or a slayer. One day though she knew she would get older and this wouldn't be the safest line of work for her to be in. And she had Dawn and her friends to think about. She was ranked a Class-A Vampire Slayer, the highest rank possible. She shared this title with only one other, Faith. No one else had survived this long (almost continuously) or seen as many apocalypses.

Unsurprisingly Giles had been researching with out pause to better their organization, to make the council more efficient, more structured, more prepared. He was stealing titles and strategy from the military; he was looking to councils of bygone eras. In other words, he was obsessing over his promise that this Watcher's council would not be like that run by Quentin Travers.

Of course not everything was sunshine and roses when it came to the new council, while many of the earlier kinks had been worked out, new problems continued to present themselves. The largest problem at the moment was the sudden and severe drop off in potentials, future slayers. Each month the teams turned up less and less of them; reminding Giles of the ongoing oil shortage, which Xander continues to believe must be demon related. Perhaps they had exhausted their resources.

Willow had devoted herself wholly to this problem as of late, blaming herself and believing it must have been her spell. She wondered if all the slayers that were ever going to be called had now been called; into each generation, how many generations would have been left? One hundred, two hundred, and how many potentials had been found? How many were already dead? If her theory was correct, they were screwed and probably so was the world. So much for puppies and Christmas.


	2. A Watcher's Free Time

To be free: to enjoy liberty, to be with out obligations or commitments. Time: a measurable period during which something happens. Put them together and you have free time: a measurable period during which you enjoy liberty with out obligations or commitments. Free time, something Dawn found herself frequently pondering as she skimmed tome after tome looking for demons. When she had free time she was in Buffy's room discussing slaying strategy. When she had free time she was in Xander's room indulging his obsession with the demons he hunted. When she had free time Willow was teaching her to levitate objects with her mind. Dawn had no free time.

One murky Thursday, a usual day as far as London was concerned she had been so occupied by the library and her bi-weekly reports she almost ignored dinner. This was very unlike Dawn indeed. Buffy had rushed into the room peering around this bookshelf and that until she had spotted her sitting alone at a computer desk. Dawn appeared entranced but when the appropriate words were dropped, "dinner" and "time" she snapped out of it.

"Thank goodness that worked!" Buffy exclaimed, "I thought I might have to call Giles in here with his crystals". Dawn's sour expression deepened at the thought of being pelted with lavender rocks, being forced to meditate on the flaws within.

* * *

They were nibbling their dinners in the study that belong to Buffy; only Giles had an apartment large enough to suit a dining table where they could all sit together. The kitchen was where the slayers took their meals; they did not eat with the Watchers, or W.I.T.s for that matter.

Dawn could not understand why suddenly lunch had become dinner. They had only crossed one ocean, to a place that spoke (mostly) the same language. Her dinner was called supper or tea now. Giles was hell bent, turning them all into the stuffy watchers of old. Tragically for Giles he was failing miserably, only Buffy attempted to humor him. Buffy owned a tweed blazer, which she wore on days such as this one, but it looked only too stylish with a flimsy Victorian blouse, which was totally inappropriate for the weather in London, and jeans.

Buffy was not dating anyone. She was far too busy with her slaying duties, her sister, and her friends. A woman did not need a man or another woman for that matter to define who she was. Life was plenty fulfilling with out a warm or cold body for that matter to join you in your bed at the end of the evening. A slayer did not need a significant other who would make demands on her time, get in her way, and distract her from, well, everything else in this life. Faith had Wood, but that was different, really. His mother had been a slayer and he understood his place. Wood was going to be a watcher. But not Faith's watcher that would be creepy!

Dawn was not dating anyone. She was far too busy with her W.I.T. duties, her sister, and her friends. A woman did not need a man or another woman for that matter to define who she was. Life was plenty fulfilling with out having someone to share one's deepest secrets and passions with. She had her sister to talk to, didn't she? A W.I.T. did not need a significant other who would make demands on her time, of which she had so very little as it was. A W.I.T. did not need a significant other who would not understand about the demons and the vampires and the (multiple) apocalypses. Of course there was Xander, but he was different, really. He was an impressive demonologist, with soulful brown eyes and a lopsided grin, who only saw her as a little sister. Really, she should stop spending so much time alone with him, he was like a brother, and this was practically incestuous!

Dawn had rose off of the couch, stretched and popped every joint along her spine. As she finished she rolled her hips and Buffy placed her last piece of unfinished chicken back on her plate, "Must you do that?" Buffy asked her, to which she replied, "Yes".

"Watcher meeting. Five minutes. Giles' rooms," it was Willow's voice over the intercom system. Buffy also rose to her feet and grabbed a hairbrush, hurriedly pulling it through the tangles in her mane of honey hair. When she had finished she turned to look at her younger sister, now so very much a woman. She ran the brush through the ends of her hair and Dawn waited patiently. Dawn, in her brown wool trousers and sky blue cashmere turtleneck played the part of English Watcher well, but never one to be entirely won over she still wore brown stiletto boots. Completely impractical Giles thought, too fashionable for a Watcher, how could one, well, watch in those? Inherited trait from her sister he figured.

* * *

Giles' apartment was a great deal more spacious that the rooms of the other members of their team. However he held the meetings, served them tea, and commonly had the lot of them in for supper. He was also Head Watcher; he needed some distinction from the ranks. The young slayers, who stayed in dormitories on the lower floors, were never invited to sit with Giles in his study. They did not have the status to do so, but many of them knew they also did not want the responsibilities that came with that invitation.

He did not mean to be an elitist but what could the Head Watcher say to a thirteen-year-old Australian girl, away from home, learning to slay vampires. He had done his time with teenagers and their flights of fancy. Besides, his team, sitting around the table was still immature enough to keep him level and grounded to the world downstairs. Faith was the council member who spent the most time with the potentials; she had the greatest deal of patients with them. Something to this day Giles was fairly surprised about.

"Tea?" he was offering. Xander pouted and Dawn cast her eyes in his direction every twenty to thirty seconds. "What happened to donuts and snack-man?" Xander wanted to know. Willow had patted him on the back, reassuring him, "You hunt demons now Xand, you are no longer required to fetch the donuts". He nodded momentarily relieved only to ask, "I only fetched because I didn't have another thing, right?" Everyone grimaced and Buffy spoke up, "Well, who cares about little things like that now Xander, really?" The meeting went on and Xander begrudgedly snacked on a cookie, or biscuit as Giles reminded him.

Mid-meeting, after the pleasantries and the friendly banter portion, the point of this conference finally came up. A new dance club had opened in the warehouse district. But why did that matter? As Dawn read over the research she had done into this particular location and building there was nothing to really catch the ear. Buffy's eyes were glazed over and Xander may have nodded off for a moment. That was until the mention of the dead bodies came into play. Three young women had been found that morning, extensive tissue damage to the throat and neck region. Buffy snorted, "What? No barbeque fork?" Giles eyed her into silence.

Dawn had concluded and stood at the foot of the table, awaiting a verdict on her research. She wasn't thinking about the murders. She was wishing she had slept in her bed as opposed to a chair in the library last night. Other than for a brief moment after the shower she had taken that morning she had been sleep walking through the day. Her eyes betrayed her, straying to Xander, he had cookie crumbs on the side of his mouth. Dawn was no longer thinking about sleep.

Xander was not dating anyone. He was far too busy with his demon hunting, his research, and his friends. He, as a man did not need a woman or anyone for that matter to be happy. Life was plenty fulfilling with out a woman to share his days with, he had wanted to share them with Anya but she ended up dead. A demon hunter did not need a significant other who would make demands on his time, distracting him from the cause, and who would end up dead (probably because of him). Wood had Faith, Xander had had Faith, but that was different, really. Faith was a slayer, she would understand, she wouldn't end up dead. Xander no longer wanted Faith because that would be just, well, disturbing!

Buffy was standing beside Dawn and their hands were moving at a frantic pace as they spoke first with one another then to the group on a whole. With in moments the sisters had formulated a plan, which they would be putting into action at that very moment. Xander needed to be paying attention, wanted to know his role and his duty. Then he could stop thinking about dating and not dating and demon hunting and his dead ex-fiancé and Faith naked and Buffy naked and Dawn naked. Oh God, he had to stop doing that. He was an awful substitute brother.

Willow's eyes bounced between Buffy and Dawn but they finally came to rest on Xander, he was twitchy. One evening some weeks before this meeting she had been alone with him in his study, they were having quality "Willow – Xander" time. She hadn't meant to, no, not at all, or at least she continued to tell herself that but she may have glimpsed into his thoughts, for just a moment, maybe two, at the most! There in a small, windowless corner of Xander's brain Willow had stumbled onto something Xander had hoped to hide until the end of his days. It was a picture, a moment captured by his mind's eye whether real or not, of Dawn showering. A recent Dawn. Xander did not know it but Willow now had in her clutches his deepest, darkest secret. She would never use it against him in the conventional sense but from that time on Willow had been more mindful, more observant during these moments the Scooby's were together.

Willow was not dating anyone. She was far too busy with her Watcher duties, her research, and her friends. A woman did not need another woman or a man for that matter to define who she was. Life was plenty fulfilling with out the whispering of a lover in ones ear, a moment's embrace. A Watcher did not need a significant other who would make demands on her time, get in her way, and distract her from, well, everything else in this life. Sure there was Oz, but that was different, really. He was a boy, a man now that she thought about it, and she wasn't interested in that sex anymore. Oz could not replace Tara, but did Tara ever replace Oz? Or did they exist in different but equal regions of her heart? She couldn't think about this, it was far too messy!

Buffy was laying out the plan and Dawn nodded along for emphasis. They were like two parts of the same person at that moment. It was a recon mission; there would be no hunting, no slaying, or as Buffy once so eloquently put it, "no kick-o, no fight-o". She had to choose her team, this mission could be important but it may also be a waste of time. In the end it would be Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Xander, and Angel, an obvious choice. Faith had rolled her eyes as the names slipped between Buffy's lips; it was just the team she would have chosen to put together as well but she didn't dare let Buffy know. The slayers, the young ones downstairs resented Buffy for never training with them, for always sticking with her tried and true team, for being so old for a slayer. They resented Faith too. She was in that inner circle, the coveted position for a slayer, something you would only see if you survived long enough to be deemed a Class-A Slayer. So far only the fabulous Buffy Summers joined Faith, but then again, she was happy to keep it that way. The more people who were let in on a secret the less exciting it became, Faith was still living for the thrill.

Dawn lived for planning, for executing plans, especially if she had Buffy's help. Xander picked at his cuticles and pulled a tiny sliver of skin away from his hand, dropping it to the floor. Dawn's eyes followed its descent. "What's the deal Buffy? Weapons, street clothes, plastic vamp teeth?" Buffy rolled her eyes but she had smiled. Xander could get away with banter and sarcasm no matter what the mood, it was his thing.

Dawn faced Buffy, smug grin in place, "Not street clothes per say," pausing to share the moment with her sister who looked stricken, "unless they are gothic, leather vampire street clothes". Willow swallowed audibly and remembered her vampire, black leather bustier wearing doppelganger. "Gothic leather?" Angel asked, speaking for the first time that meeting, "but, I'm a vampire and I do not wear gothic leather," beat, everyong staring, "very often". And it was settled; the next morning Dawn with the help of Willow and Buffy would find the appropriate costumes. She took notes; sizes, likes, dislikes (but those did not matter to her one bit), and comments.

Willow said, "Dawn, have you ever worn a bustier or a corset," she flashed the resolve face, "not conducive to breathing". "Vampires do not breathe," Angel reminded her. Xander panicked, "Will I be required to hold my breath? We will have oxygen providing devices?" With a pointed look from Willow and then Buffy he spoke again, "No, because I will be allowed to breathe". "Yes," Buffy told him, "Obviously this is a human club with a few unwanted vampire patrons". "Or," Angel added, "A club run by vampires to keep a good number of humans on hand at supper time. They are certainly capable of that". Dawn smiled at him, "Vampires? Being devious? No, I can not believe it!" "Funny," said Buffy.

Angel was not dating anyone. He was far too busy with his avenging, his brooding, and his friends (or were they merely co-workers?). He, as a cursed vampire with a soul certainly did not need a woman or anyone for that matter to be happy. Life was plenty fulfilling with out a woman to share his nights with, he had wanted to share them with Buffy at one time but look how that ended up. A cursed vampire with soul did not need a significant other who would make demands on his time, distracting him from the cause, and who would end up dead (probably because of him). Sure there was Buffy, but that was different, really. She just happened to understand the whole ordeal with the curse. But Buffy had loved Spike, probably still loved Spike; he had been more a part of her than Angel had been in the end. Angel had to keep the secret; he did not want to spend any more of his eternal life with Spike around, he was justso obnoxious!

"Right, so defensive weapons only; crosses, holy water, stakes. I don't want any crossbows or axes. This is recon only, we're just gathering information," Buffy nodded and Giles called an end to the meeting. The team would reconvene in his quarters the next night.


	3. Flash Some Fang

"You can't be serious about this," Xander said. Dawn shot him a glare and he didn't say another word, only looked himself over in the floor to ceiling mirror in front of him. He could hear Willow in the other room, cursing, it must be awful. Dawn busied herself with her shopping bags and Buffy retreated to the bedroom to help Willow. "Wish I really was a vampire," he pouted, "then I couldn't see my miserable reflection".

He and Dawn were alone. Not something he was sure he was comfortable with. She laughed along with him when he said something funny but without any real mirth. The girl was so sad when in his company. How was it that he, Xander Harris, could make one woman so miserable? And she was a woman, wasn't she? Not a little girl anymore; Dawn was a fiercely independent woman, not just Buffy Summer's kid sister.

"Why is leather so in with the undead?" Willow asked. She was wearing skin tight black leather pants with a dark pink and black leather corset. Buffy was beside her clothed in a similar "vampire attire". "Wow," Dawn said to Buffy. To which Buffy replied, "Is it the corset or the fishnets?"

"Everything, I guess," said Dawn. "With the three of you like that," she paused, thinking, "I get this strange sensation, like, things could have turned out this way". Willow smiled knowingly, "But for the grace of the Goddess, right Dawn?" The younger girl nodded and picked up the bag marked with her name, slipping silently into the bedroom. Xander watched her go, and Willow watched Xander watching.

Buffy tugged her knee high boots on and said, "Why did I have to be Victorian Goth again?" Her corset was longer than the one Willow wore and laced tightly up the back. It fanned out over an overly lace covered skirt; all black of course. Black was not Buffy's color.

"Victorian Goth works for you Buffy. You're filled with dark mystery". "Like a frightening glass eyed china doll in period dress, Will?" As her friend rolled her eyes Buffy turned her attention to Xander. "I get a déjà vu when I looked at you, dressed that way, I mean". In his black leather pants, white wife beater, and black leather jacket Xander was the spitting image of a vampire self he had never know. Someone from another world, another dimension, and a place that only Anya Jenkins had seen clearly, and she was dead.

Dawn emerged looked every bit the part. In a black baby doll dress with a full skirt and puff sleeves, fishnets, and black platform boots, she was a gothic image. "I went for that Japanese, Goth girl, Harajuku look." Buffy smiled, "I think you nailed it". "I feel scary," Dawn replied. "I get that," said Buffy, "when you walked out, for a moment, I think I channeled Mom, and she was thinking, 'What's happened to my baby'!" Dawn cracked a smile then and asked, "Where's Angel?"

"Hiding," Xander told them. Angel was mortified, a vampire, an actual vampire being forced to pretend to be human pretending to be a vampire. It was sick and a little avant-garde for his tastes. He heard Willow chanting, "Angel is a scared-y cat". He wanted to eat them all right now, soul be damned, he would drain them dry for putting him through this. Sighing, and finally recognizing defeat he opened the door and wandered into Buffy's quarters.

"I do this under great protest," he stated. "We know," Dawn and Buffy chorused. Xander stood from his seat at the table and pointed to Angel sputtering and gasping like a fish. "What?" Dawn asked. "Why does he get to look so normal?" he finally asked. In black leather pants and a purple button down silk shirt Angel did look pretty normal. "He is already a vampire Xander, he doesn't need to be over the top," Willow told him. "And he's our all access pass into the dark, seedy, underbelly of London's Goth scene," Buffy added. Angel only sighed and sat heavily on the sofa. Dawn turned to him, "You made need to flash some fang at the door". Angel put his hands on his face and mumbled to himself, saying things like, "unbelievable," or, "I'm too old for this".

* * *

After being as stealthy as humanly (or in Angel's case vampirely) possible leaving Watcher Headquarters the chosen group found themselves in London's notorious warehouse district. "Oh my," muttered Dawn. The area was dark, as it was close to midnight and the streets were wet from the day's rains. The alley they made their way through smelled like a sewer. "Someone explain to me again the appeal of clubs like this," Buffy questioned. "It's a place to hide from the world," Angel offered.

"Is that music from the club?" Xander asked striding quietly along side Dawn. "Is that English?" Dawn asked in return. They paused to listen, to gather their senses before they came into sight of the club. They could hear the pounding lyrics being repeated over and over, "Du, du hast, du hast mich, du hast mich gefragt, du hast mich gefragt, und ich hab nichts gesagt. Willst dub bis der Tod euch scheidet true ihr sein alle Tage. Nein. Willst dub is zum Tod, der scheide sie lieben auch in schlechten Tagen. Nein".

"It's German, he's been asked something," Angel said and Willow nodded her agreement, "Something about dying I think. German isn't one of my best languages," she told them. "It's Rammstein," Buffy replied with confidence, "Du Hast," they looked at her puzzled, "is the name of the song," she continued. When they still stared Buffy sighed in exasperation, which was difficult in a corset and threw her hands in the air, "What? I can't have layers?" Everyone looked away but no one missed Dawn mumble under her breathe, "Spike layers".

Buffy let it go. It hurt, Dawn knew it would but she had said it anyway. She knew where her sister had heard a band like this and it was not on Sunnydale radio. Sunnydale, she sighed, not something she thought about too often. Her heart was still bruised from that day, which seemed like a lifetime ago. They had lost their mother, and their home, and everything they knew that day. And Buffy had lost Spike, who was finally beginning to grow on Dawn again. Buffy wasn't over it, Dawn knew, even if the others couldn't see it or ignored it, she saw the pain in her sister's eyes; that world weariness that comes with losing the one that you love the most. First it had been their mother and then it was Spike, the Summer's girls always seemed to lose the people they depended on the most.

"I guess we should make an appearance," Xander offered, breaking the silence that had fallen upon the group. "Sorry," Willow apologized looking wistfully at her friends, "I was having Bronze nostalgia". Buffy hugged her briefly even though it was difficult with them both wearing restrictive leather corsets, "We all miss it Will. But we have a mission; the mission is what matters". And with their renewed senses of self the Scooby's set out on their quest and into the music filled streets in front of "Corruption".

As they made their way toward the entrance, which was with out a bouncer of any kind, Willow remarked, "So, they aren't selective about who they let in?" As Dawn came up beside her she continued Willow's train of thought, "And there is no cover charge?" Angel had now assumed he would no longer need to "flash some fang" as Dawn so often put it but before the thought was entirely out of his mouth, the girl in question said only a cryptic, "We'll see".

Buffy, who by now had caught on to what her sister and Willow were getting at turned to Angel, asking him, "Can you catch the scent of any vampires, besides yourself, of course?" But he only shrugged his large shoulders in defeat, "This is the perfect place for vampires to hunt and keep away from the prying eyes of people like slayers. The only smells I can pick up on here are cigarette smoke, sweat, and lust". "Lust?" Dawn squeaked.

When Angel nodded her mind began to race. Could all vampires smell things such as lust? Could they smell things like longing or hope, as well as fear? How did she smell when she looked at Xander? Angel could have noticed a distinct change in her smell whenever the big brother type was in the room, and if that was the case, he would know. What if he told Buffy? Would she be angry? Dawn wasn't trying to steal someone for Buffy, she didn't need him all to herself, but she yearned for him. Longed to feel his hands running down, she stopped in her train of thought abruptly. Could Angel smell it on her now, even with the swell of bodies so near by? It was best to drop it.

* * *

The strobe lights were near blinding as Buffy entered the club. She could feel her senses tingling as they so often did when a vampire was near. She had long ago tuned out the vibrations of Angel's demon so she knew someone or something else was near by.

For the past month or so she had the continual feeling that she was being watched. She had almost caught the stalker out of the corner of her eye on more than one occasion. If only time made vampires more intelligent; really, as they got older they got more careless and conceited in their own skills. Perhaps he had wanted to be seen but she doubted that very much as he had yet to announce his presence to her. How could he think she wouldn't know? But she would play his game as long as was necessary, until he was comfortable enough to show himself. She had however warned Faith that if a potential so much as pointed a look in his direction, that girl would be finding a _new_ home in the _old_ dungeon.

"This is a perfect atmosphere for vampires," Dawn whispered into Willows ear. They tried to blend but found themselves stiff and uncomfortable in this kind of place. "I'm out of touch," Willow told Dawn as she adjusted her tight leather pants, "I never fit in with the cool crown, but this is even worse". Dawn winked and said, "You just leave that to me," before she disappeared into the human crush.

Xander suddenly emerged to grab Willow by the hand and pull her into the swell of flesh around them, "Table!" he yelled. Buffy was already seated on a bar stool, legs crossed, and fiddling with her long blonde hair. Willow had to admit, Buffy could fit in anywhere she wanted to, she was a gothic princess and Willow was still a nerd in new clothes. Oh well, she thought, Buffy couldn't translate Latin.

Buffy offered her seat to Willow saying she was going to try and find Dawn and Angel. "At the bar," Xander bellowed from behind. Swaying a little, trying to catch the beat of the newest industrial rock song to blast through the system, Buffy saw them. Dawn was raising her fist into the air and yelling things like, "bloody hell", "bollocks" and "fuck," that was Dawn Summers, W.I.T. extraordinaire for you.

"He won't serve us," Dawn screamed as her sister approached. "No need to yell!" Buffy told her, "I'm right here". "Sorry," was her reply, "he won't serve us," she said again in a lower tone and added, "'cause I don't have big fake tits pushed up in a bloody tube top". Angel bit his lip, hard, trying to keep his laughter at the situation in, maybe tonight wasn't going to be so awful, at least it could be amusing.

"Angel," Buffy said, fluttering her eyelashes at him, like she needed to, "could you help us out with the drinks". With a sigh and nod he turned to the barkeep, growled, and when he had the man's attention he slipped into game face. Every inch of exposed skin this guy had was covered in either a piercing or a tattoo, at any other time he might have even been frightening, but tonight as he gasped and dropped a pint of beer onto the floor he looked like a school boy. Dawn leaned into Angel on his right and Buffy did the same on his left, he put his arms around them and started to rattle off a list of drinks. Even in a place like Corruption, where the bartender had seen a lot of fucked up things, he rarely saw a real vampire, let alone one with two beautiful little Goth girls (sisters?) pressed up against him. The drinks would obviously be on the house for this crew.

As the trio made their way back to the table Xander had procured, with some help, again, from Angel's fangs, Dawn was practically skipping. "That was amazing. Fang. Drink! Just like that!" she turned to her sister, "Buffy, can I have fangs too?" To which her sister replied, "I don't think Watcher dental coverage covers the cost of getting your teeth filed down to points. Besides, you wouldn't have the bumpies". "Fuck," was all Dawn said as she took her seat.

Dawn was being watched but she did not have Buffy's senses. She hadn't seen him; he wasn't even sure if Buffy had. She certainly hadn't glanced twice, just kept on her way, shaking her head like she was trying to wake up from a bad dream. Dawn was a grown up now, a real woman but in so many ways she was still the girl he knew. She cursed like a sailor but clung to her sister like she was a life preserver. She knew which features to play up, she knew what men wanted but she still had that crush on Xander, and the ponce still didn't know. She was so proper normally but still skipped around like a teeny bopper when she was happy. Yes, she was still the Bit.

The drinks had arrived and Willow smiled at Xander. They had been discussing how much like the Bronze this was, when in reality they knew it was nothing like the old club back home. But then again, it didn't need to be the same, only to evoke the same feeling. Willow ignored the leather, and the black, and the piercing and tattoos, she ignored the industrial rock and the strobe lights, she only saw the dancing, and the happy people, and the old gang around the table. She sounded so old, even to her self, oh well, "To vampires," she said throwing back a glowing green shot.

* * *

Angel and Xander sipped their beers, keeping their eyes open for any kind of demonic or vampire-like behavior, but thus far had noticed zip. The ladies had offered to get a better scope of the situation from the dance floor, or so they told them. To Xander it just looked like a guise, a way for them to cut loose and enjoy themselves. Something too rare to the Scooby's these days; he didn't have the heart to deny them their lie. Angel tapped his arm and gestured toward the bar; Xander's immediate reaction was, "Vamps?" he reached for a stake. The other man shook his head no and gestured again; there, by the bar were two very attractive women using razors to cut each other's arms, they then followed this up by lapping at the blood and giggling.

"This isn't a vampire club," Angel said sagely, "These are children playing make believe. I've seen it in Sunnydale, and LA, and a million other places. I don't think we're going to find anything tonight, not here". Xander nodded, transfixed but obviously trying to formulate a thought, "Should I collect the girls?" Angel looked out onto the dance floor where Dawn and Buffy were wrapped in each other's arms taking another test tube shot and said, "Nah. Something could happen".

* * *

Dawn was drunk. This was fact. Buffy knew it; her eyes were glassy, her speech slurred, and her dancing ever more seductive. Willow continued to glance sideways at Dawn as she shimmed behind Buffy, throwing her head back. "Are you checking out my sister," Buffy asked Willow with a smile. "What? I," she paused, "What? No!"

With an ashamed Willow in tow the girls returned to their table and waiting companions. Buffy slumped into her chair, "We're not going to find anything tonight," she grunted. Her feet were killing her. How did these girls do this night after night? And she was a slayer for fuck's sake! Dawn was whispering in Xander's ear, his face was flush. "Dawn," he said warningly, "You're drunk". She nodded. Buffy's interest was peaked, as were Willow and Angel's. The youngest Summer's draped her hand across Xander's lap and whispered something else. Buffy couldn't make it out over the ever increasing pumping of the sound system.

Xander pleaded with Buffy to pull her sister away from him, that this wasn't fair. But Dawn would not budge and really, Buffy was enjoying watching Xander squirm. Until Dawn said aloud, "I could flash you some tit. How about that?" she stopped to twirl a strand of thick brown hair around her finger then continued to everyone's embarrassment, "I'll show you mine, and you show me yours".

Buffy's drink was everywhere, including on Angel's face, where she had sprayed a liberal amount. "Dawn Summers!" was all that came out of her mouth. Willow was worrying her bottom lip and looked flushed with color, "Buffy, I don't think she knows what she's saying". But Dawn spoke up, "I do! Grown woman here," she pointed to herself then pointed to Angel who frowned at being singled out, "Angel got to flash some fang! Why can't I flash something?" "Oh god," was the only reply and it came from Xander.

As the quarrel escalated Buffy felt it again, the tingle, the pull at her spine. That some old feeling that made her panties, or knickers, wet every time. She slipped away from the table as Dawn offered up yet another reason why the very frustrated Xander should want to look at her bare breasts. She made a mental note; Dawn is a bad drunk. Another inherited trait from her big sister she wondered?

It was obvious that he would follow her. The door had barely closed on the alleyway when she felt him. He was on the other side of the door, most likely wondering why she was out there, listening for her breathing, straining to hear if there was anyone or thing out there with her.

Angel hadn't mentioned Spike, not since he first came to England, and even then it had only been a passing comment regarding her choosing him as her champion rather than Angel. In the din, among the human mass, she assumed Angel couldn't have picked him out. He couldn't have sensed him, not like she sensed him. Buffy could feel Spike's closeness even though the steel door. It was killing her. She willed him to come to her, repeating in her mind, "I still want you".

Did she dare to speak, acknowledge that she knew he was there? Would he run like a frightened child, like the crazed man she had found living in the Sunnydale High School basement? Perhaps he would come to her. She really didn't have anything to lose; she knew he could never truly abandon her.

So, yes, she dared, "Spike?" she asked the night, "Come out, come out, wherever you are," she added playfully. The door creaked, she held her breath. As he slipped out into the night she gasped; she strained to see him through the din of the hour, she wanted to absorb him, to know each inch of him again. Buffy wanted to say something witty or thoughtful, something she could be remembered for but when she opened her mouth the only thing that came out was, "Hi".

He stared at her, but he remained silent so she pressed on, "You're here". Spike opened his mouth then shut it again and closed his eyes. He stayed like that and Buffy moved ever closer to him; she placed her small hand over his dead, un-beating heart and waited. Finally, with his eyes still closed he spoke, "I'm alive". And Buffy's simple reply was, "I know".


End file.
